Unasked questions
by Adri1577
Summary: Charlie has an annoying habit of ignoring phone calls and disappearing. He also works for more than one agency. Before anyone knows two cases collide in a brutal way. Main character death. Completed
1. Chapter 1

Story: Unasked questions

Author: Adri1577

Main characters: Charlie and Don

Warnings: death fic.

Summary: Charlie has an annoying habit of ignoring phone calls and disappearing. He also works for more than one agency. Before anyone knows two cases collide in a brutal way.

**Chapter 1**

Told and untold

Known and unknown

Of all the things we've asked, there are so many that we haven't.

**Don**

If there ever was such a thing as a case just like others, this was it. A gang was robbing banks once every seven days. No casualties yet but there were no guarantees for the future.

Special Agent Don Eppes was sipping his morning coffee and discussing latest findings with his team; they found out that for now all their leads were leading exactly in one direction: nowhere.

"Have you asked Charlie to help?" Colby asked with a hopeful look to his boss.

Don was about to answer when he was interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Excuse me. Special Agent Don Eppes?" A tall man was standing right behind Don's desk. He looked about mid-thirties, broad shoulders, tall, very fit as evidence by the muscles his suit clung to.

"Yeah." Don turned to the newcomer. "That's me. Who's asking?"

"Special Agent Malkin. NSA. Is there somewhere where we could talk privately? I have a few questions for you." Calm, even voice that barely had any emotion.

Don watched the man for a moment before nodding towards the war-room. "Sure. This way." The NSA coming to ask questions never meant anything good, but at least they hadn't asked him to come to their office for questioning.

Don led the way noticing that his team wasn't far behind barely stopping at the doors.

Malkin followed the Special Agent in and turned to close the doors when he noticed the other agents hovering nearby. He glanced at his notebook for a moment and stepped aside holding the doors open. "I'll have to ask you the same things, so you might as well come in."

The team glanced at each other, then at Don and after receiving a nod from their leader went in, David closing the doors.

"What's this all about?" Don had a case and wasn't in a talkative mood.

Malkin came to stand a few steps away from him also facing the rest of the team. "When was the last time you saw professor Charles Edward Eppes?"

The team stood in shock. This wasn't the question anyone had been expecting.

"Charlie?" Don frowned in confusion; maybe he misheard the question.

Malkin nodded eying Don and clutching his pen. "When was the last time you saw or talked to professor Charles Edward Eppes?"

Agent Eppes had to stop for a few moments to think. In any other situation he would have been able to answer right away. But the NSA didn't ask such questions for no reason. And now his mind was spinning with all the possibilities. Yet Malkin was still looking at him. "Yesterday morning after the third robbery I brought the new data to Charlie at his house."

"When was it?"

Don rubbed his neck, "about eleven hundred."

The NSA agent looked at the others who merely nodded still too stunned by the implications the question brought.

"Why are you asking? What happened?" Don wanted to know what his little brother had gotten involved into this time.

**Charlie**

To whom it may concern,

today was supposed to be just another normal day.

I helped my brother to determine the bank robbers. Don gave me all the data he had; all I had to do was put it in a few equations I had ready for such situations and run my findings through various databases. It didn't take more than a few hours to find who the culprits were. I even wrote two reports for my brother on my findings: an extensive one with explanations and a brief one with only the characteristics of the robbers. I left it on my desk; I hope he finds it.

Then I received a call from Bob. He said that they needed my help to find a group of assassins who are killing civilians consulting for government agencies. He also said that he had sent a car to pick me up. And it arrived with three agents in less than half an hour. I have met Alec and Dorian only once before, but I know Jerry quite well; I have consulted his team on more than a few occasions. He is one of those agents who carries half of armory on them.

We were on a highway across the desert on our way out of L.A. to some safe-house where I am supposed to work for the next few days. The road was clear except for the black SUV riding in front of us. Come to think of it, the car looked exactly like us. Then out of nowhere another car hit us from behind making us slightly swerve to the left, but Alec returned our car on the right lane in no time. I guess it truly sank in that something was very wrong when Jerry ripped the computer bag out of my hands and shoved it on the floor, and handed me a 9 mm making me clutch it tightly. Like so many times before 'just in case' rang in my ears. The SUV in front of us slowed down drastically and we hit its rear, and then the car behind us slammed into us. It felt like being between the hammer and the anvil. The SUV sped away and it only took another shove from behind and here we are. About to fly off the road into sandy nowhere below us. Actually the front of our car is already in the air and only the backseats still have a roadside under them.

Surprisingly, I am not afraid. Not yet, anyway.

Charlie

**Disclaimer for an entire story: **I own nothing, the rightful owners do._  
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	2. Chapter 2

Story: Unasked questions

Author: Adri1577

Main characters: Charlie and Don

Warnings: death fic.

Summary: Charlie has an annoying habit of ignoring phone calls and disappearing. He also works for more than one agency. Before anyone knows two cases collide in a brutal way.

**Chapter 2**

**Don**

Special Agent Malkin glanced around the room in displeasure. He felt no fascination for the civilian consultants, especially such as Charles Eppes - young, energetic and generally annoying, thinking they knew how to do his job; not that he had ever met this professor personally, but that was besides the point, they were all the same. To top it all off Malkin was the one supposed to find him no matter what. "We sent our agents to pick him up, and now neither the agents, nor your brother are answering."

Don wasn't surprised in the least. "Charlie is always loosing his phone. And even more often simply ignores is."

"Not our calls, Agent Eppes. Not when we call his cell issued by us. He hasn't missed a call let alone lost the phone in over half a decade."

Don would never admit it but that stung more than just a bit.

Megan chose this moment to interfere while it was still possible to do it with words rather than fists. And the boys were wasting precious time anyway. "So you're saying that Charlie is missing?"

Malkin reluctantly nodded while Don shook his head in denial. "Wait a minute. He probably just got lost in one of his projects. I'll call our father, and you'll see that there is nothing to worry about." He took out his cell phone and dialed Alan's number.

It took some minutes for the elder to answer "_Donnie_?"

"Dad. Yeah, it's me. Listen, I'm a bit busy right now, so I can't talk long. Have you seen Charlie today?"

"_No. No, I haven't. But I'm just coming home from fishing right now._" Don's blood ran cold hearing these dreaded words. "_Don't worry. He is probably just working on that project of his._"

"Dad, when was the last time you saw Charlie?" The Agent tried to keep his voice calm so as not to alert his father, but he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep it up for long.

"_Come to think of it, maybe on last Sunday. Listen, son. Charlie told me that he had this huge project, and that the deadline was approaching, so he was going to spend this and the next week working all day long. He has been coming home late at night and leaving early in the morning this whole week._" Alan's words did little to reassure his son. "_Donnie, this is Charlie. He is working. You know how he can get._"

"Yeah, I do." Don finally made himself speak. "Thanks, dad. I'll call you later." He snapped his phone shut and glanced around the room at the worried faces of his team.

Special Agent Eppes took a deep breath and forced himself to look at this from an unbiased point of view. It wasn't the first time Charlie disappeared. Most likely not the last one either. And Don had learned long ago that their minds didn't work in the same way. This was probably just one of those times.

Don turned to his team with determination in his eyes. They were wasting precious time here, but he wanted this NSA agent off his back. "Colby, go to CalSci, check if Charlie is there. Megan, call Amita and find Larry; if Charlie is working on some project, they will know; then check the house, especially the garage. You'll see, he is just working on some new equation in the garage or his office with those headphones blaring." One could only wonder whether he was trying to convince his team that everything was alright, or himself. "If you can't find him there, check labs in CalSci and all the libraries you can think of."

Megan was the last one who wanted to put in a word, but there was just a tiny flaw in the plan. "Libraries?" She quietly asked. "It's Sunday."

"Yeah, well. And it's Charlie for you." Don turned to his second in command showing that the discussion was over. "David, run those plates again. We need to find that car."

"Plates?" David sounded as lost as Colby and Megan felt.

"Yeah. Plates." Don was getting impatient and it was never a good thing. "We have a string of bank robberies to solve, remember?" Special Agent Eppes stormed out of the room to work on their current case and feeling every bit irritated at his ever-errant younger brother; Charlie's old habits resurging was the last thing he needed.

**Charlie**

To whom it may concern,

it's been awhile since the last time I felt as much pain as I am in right now.

When our car tumbled down, I thought that was it. But somehow we all survived. Jerry's hands are the only ones that weren't crisscrossed by shattering glass. Our hearts were still beating, and we were breathing by ourselves. Somehow we got out of the car, took the little weighing weapons and ran for the nearest bushes. Alec got shot in his left shoulder when we were only a few steps away from the relative safety of the desert vegetation. He was bleeding heavily, and I was the one who had to push on his wound to stop the essence of life leaving him. When I raised my eyes from the bloody mess under my hands, I saw six men leaving their cars and coming down the steep slope. The cars that had run us off the highway neatly parked on the roadside.

Dorian and Jerry took out their guns to shoot back, but they merely pulled the triggers once when a volley of bullets fell on us. Our attackers had automatic guns. I tried to be as small as I could make myself. It was then that I felt more than saw a bullet go through Alec's chest. It entered his right side and left him on the other side just below my hands. He was loosing too much blood too rapidly. He could no longer breathe for himself.

The enemy was closing in. Dorian and Jerry couldn't hold them back for any longer. Alec let out his final breath, and a veil of fog covered his eyes; there was no more beating under my hands.

The only way for us to survive was to move.

I'm sorry. But we'll come back for him when we can.

Charlie.


	3. Chapter 3

Story: Unasked questions

Author: Adri1577

Main characters: Charlie and Don

Warnings: death fic.

Summary: Charlie has an annoying habit of ignoring phone calls and disappearing. He also works for more than one agency. Before anyone knows two cases collide in a brutal way.

**Chapter 3  
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**Don**

Colby made his way into the almost empty CalSci parking lot. There were a few bikes in the racks; Charlie liked cycling, right? The Agent slowly made his way inside carefully glancing around and hoping to see the young professor.

Well, a few minutes later he did meet a professor. Just not the one he was looking for.

"Hey Colby. How are you?" Amita was cheerful as always. Maybe everything was alright; she would know if something was amiss with the younger Eppes.

"Hey Amita. I'm good. Have you seen Charlie around?"

The girl looked confused for a moment before chuckling, "it's Sunday. Even Charlie isn't that hopeless if he can help it." Not the reassuring answer the agent was hoping for.

"Right." Colby nodded reluctantly. "Do you by any chance know where we could find him?"

The young woman frowned for a minute. "You should try his house." She shrugged noncommittally. "Last time I saw him was Friday lunch. He has some huge project that he isn't talking about much, but I'm pretty sure they all agreed not to meet this weekend. So you should try his house."

"Thanks." Colby nodded and glanced towards Charlie's office.

"He isn't in his office. I just walked by it."

"I think I'll check it out anyway. Thanks, Amita." Colby walked off, and the young woman returned to her own business without any suspicion that something might not be as it should.

Just as Amita had said, Colby found Charlie's office doors locked. Asking the security guards wasn't any more useful, for they could only shake their heads asked about the professor's whereabouts. Though Charlie knew CalSci inside out, so he could have easily slipped past the security without being noticed. However, no matter how many times the agent walked around the halls of the university, he couldn't find his boss's brother.

Colby could only hope that Megan was more successful.

**Charlie**

To whom it may concern,

today is turning out to be one of those days when I wish I haven't woken up at all.

We had to leave Alec behind. But it is only for now. We'll come back for him.

Jerry was holding me while we ran for cover further away from the bullets flying at us. Dorian covered our retreat to the nearest boulders where we could hide. I was glad I could cower behind something solid. The sand on my hands make the pain all the more real. Shots slowly getting closer don't bring a feeling of safety either. Jerry pushed me to the ground hard and as far away from our attackers as he could.

A few agonizingly long minutes later Dorian joined us; his pristine white shirt was dusty and worst of all stained with blood seeping from the agent's side. His breathing was labored, and he could only crawl. Jerry handed him another clip; they were both running low on ammo. Slowly but surely our assailants were getting closer. I knew we would have to move again. Dorian chanced another shot, but neither luck nor fate was on our side; a projectile hit the boulder right in front of him and pierced him right between his collar bones. Minutes later he drowned in his own blood. I don't know for how long I just stared at him not being able to move an inch, but when Jerry finally yanked me into moving, the shooters were getting dangerously close.

We are running for cover again.

But we will come back for him. For both of them. When and if we can.

Charlie.


	4. Chapter 4

Story: Unasked questions

Author: Adri1577

Main characters: Charlie and Don

Warnings: death fic.

Summary: Charlie has an annoying habit of ignoring phone calls and disappearing. He also works for more than one agency. Before anyone knows two cases collide in a brutal way.

**Chapter 4  
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**Don**

Megan was on her way to Charlie's house when she saw Larry coming out of a library. She pulled up and got out of the car right in front of the professor.

"Hey." She smiled in greeting.

"Oh, hi, Megan." Larry seemed as distracted as he always is.

"How are you doing?" She asked scrutinizing the man in front of her and slowly drawing his attention to herself. He merely nodded murmuring something. "Have you seen Charlie recently?" She had more topics than this one to chat about but others could wait.

"Time is a relative term. What is enormously long for us is just a brief glimpse in universe's lifespan." Getting fixated on one word from the question, and it never is the key one, seemed to be the habit of the man. Megan patiently waited for the answer to her real question. After a few moments Larry went on, "last time he graced me with his presence, I believe, was Friday afternoon right after his Calculus seminar. Why? Has something happened?"

"I hope not. Thank you, Larry." Megan rushed back to her car while the man merely waved. She would have gladly stayed to chat with him some more, but she had another professor to find.

Half an hour later she finally arrived at the Craftsman. No car in the driveway wasn't a good sign. But maybe Charlie came home on foot or caught some bus instead of driving. Low chance of that but it was always a possibility. And the young man did like cycling.

Megan got out of the car and walked up to the porch. It was too quiet for her liking. She rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. She rang again with the same results. Finally the agent walked around the corner of the house to the outside of the garage, but it was closed, and there was not a single being anywhere close.

A relieved sigh escaped her lips when she heard a car pulling up the driveway. Alas it turned out to be Alan. The agent put on her smile and approached the father.

"Hey Alan."

The man startled a bit turning around but soon relaxed seeing the familiar face. "Oh, hi Megan."

"Um... I'm looking for Charlie." She paused for a moment. "You don't happen to know where he is, do you?"

The father stopped walking the porch for a minute. "No. No, I don't. But I already told Don that. He called maybe an hour ago."

"Yeah, I know. We are still looking for Charlie."

"Well, come in. Maybe he left a note or something."

They both walked into the house, and Alan turned straight for the kitchen.

"You don't seem surprised that we can't find Charlie." Megan glanced around the living room, no notes. And made her way into the kitchen.

"That's because I'm not. He has been working on some project for an entire week. The only reason why I know that he came home every evening, is that there was always some food missing in the refrigerator in the morning. Not that I'm complaining; it means he's eating. But I'm not worried about him either."

"Don seems to think the same. Or at least along the same lines." Megan leaned in the doorway.

"Now that's surprising!" Alan exclaimed making the agent instinctively straighten her posture. He turned to her with a disbelieving look on his face. "Charlie restocked the fridge. It hasn't ever happened before as long as he has been living in here. Not even right after he bought the house."

Megan barely resisted rolling her eyes. She did however leave the kitchen. Wandering around the first floor she noticed a piece of paper near the base of the cordless phone. "Alan, there's a message for you. From the handwriting it looks like Charlie's."

"Really?" Alan came out of the kitchen. "I haven't been near that phone in at least a week; everybody calls me on my cell phone. What it reads?"

Megan turned the note in her hands and saw the words that she wanted to read and at the same time not.

_Dad,_

_my friend called (from NSA, I know Don will ask) and asked for my help. I have to leave for a few days. Promise, no more than that._

_If Don asks, tell him I left my findings on his case on my desk._

_Love, _

_Charlie._

They dearly needed the second part of the message, but she had been dreading to learn about the first one.

Megan flipped open her phone and hit the speed dial. "Don, Charlie isn't at home. And we might have a serious problem."

**Charlie**

To whom it may concern,

I feel so cold. Which in all logic shouldn't be because it's at least 80 degrees here. I hope it's warm where you are.

We have already left Alec and Dorian behind. Jerry loves repeating a saying: do not pity the dead, pity the living. I have never been able to understand him, to believe him before now. My two fellows died on my own hands; I felt Life bleed out of their bodies. Hands that are covered with mud made by my blood mixed with sand. Sand that feels as if it's on fire.

Jerry made me grasp my 9 mm, and we ran. He was constantly firing over his shoulder, trying to keep our assailants back. Trying to win us enough time to hide. But there was nowhere to hide. And we couldn't hope to win a head-on fight; I could hardly keep the gun straight let alone fire. So we ran.

The desert is dry, barren and hot. There is barely anything growing around here. The few bushes we paused to catch a breath behind were almost translucent. That was when Jerry got seriously shot for the first time. He had been shot in his service many times before. But not today. Only his arm had been grazed, and that was a couple of minutes ago. Now he had a bullet in his abdomen. He was bleeding and without a hospital there was little to no chance for him to survive. Our attackers were getting closer. There were four of them left. That's when I got my first good look at those... Jerry used something less pleasant than 'creatures'. I recognized them; only hours - or was it even less than that? - ago I identified them as the bank robbers my brother was looking for. I saw their faces in one of the many databases. Now those same faces were starring at me like a predator at one's prey. I made a pause and a mistake, two in one. A bullet slashed through my thigh. I would have yelped in pain had I felt anything more than a violent tugging sensation. A bullet that had pierced Jerry's arm before even meeting me. It was a loud reminder that we had to move, and safety was nowhere to be found.

We ran some more. Or rather limped. I think our attackers are enjoying this game of theirs because they let us live this long, though how or why would they I neither know nor understand. Jerry tripped right in front of some heavy stones that could easily protect his back, would have protected his front had he been behind them. He was hardly breathing, but I could still see the fire in his eyes; fire that will only die with its host. He took off and handed me his belt that no longer held multiple clips but still had pockets full of whatnots. He told me to run. He told me to run and not look back. That he would take out as many of 'them' as he could before going down. He told me that I still had a chance because I hadn't lost more than half of my blood. A chance to avenge my brothers in arms. He never mentioned, not even once, survival.

It doesn't look like anybody survives around me. I'm glad Don isn't here. Any other day he would have made everything right, but today I'm glad I won't drag him down with me.

Now I'm going into an abandoned mine.

Somebody will come for Jerry. For all of them.

I hope my family have long mundane lives, and that they would never be made to turn their backs on their friends.

Charlie


	5. Chapter 5

Story: Unasked questions

Author: Adri1577

Main characters: Charlie and Don

Warnings: death fic.

Summary: Charlie has an annoying habit of ignoring phone calls and disappearing. He also works for more than one agency. Before anyone knows two cases collide in a brutal way.

**Chapter 5**

**Don**

Don wasn't impressed by his brother at all.

The runt was not just ignoring his brother's calls. He had actually managed to disappear. There were two annoying things about it. First of all, Don's team seemed to be the only ones worried about it, and wasn't he, the older brother, supposed to be freaking out? And secondly, where exactly was that 'desk' that Charlie had mentioned in his note? It certainly wasn't one in the bureau. Has Charlie ever even noticed how many desks he, as a teacher, went through every day? Don could only hope that his ever-distracted brother didn't leave the sensitive documents lying around in some auditorium in CalSci.

Charlie really couldn't have chosen a worse time to disappear. Don had a case, and he needed his team's full attention on it. Till now they had been turning over every single stone around and in the crime scenes looking for clues. Yet they returned with nothing. Nada. Naught. Zilch. Not even that little they had. And his little brother decided to take his proverbial magical hat and disappear right now.

Those bank robbers weren't going to wait for his brother to come out of his hiding place after finishing some useless project of his!

Right now Megan was searching their house for Charlie's 'desk' with his supposed 'findings', and Colby was perusing the office in CalSci for exactly the same reason. And even though David was supposed to be looking into those car plates, Don had an inkling that his second in command was also looking for his brother rather than working on another dead lead.

Megan called in and said that she found the folder; she and Granger were coming back to the bureau. Don sighed in exasperation; what could she have found to make her so worried?

It didn't take more than half an hour for his team to gather in the war room, quite an achievement considering the current traffic in L.A.

In short order everyone got a good look at Charlie's note and the two reports; the long and thorough one was skipped while the brief one was memorized. Everyone was surprised when the search in databases provided only six suspects, all residing in L.A. and with skills to pull such robberies. Those guys even perfectly fitted Charlie's determined characteristics. Nothing was out of place.

Don wanted to send his team to pick up those guys when he saw the intent gaze Megan was giving him. He raised his eyebrow; he had no wish to be distracted from this case.

"Don. We are up against not just an ordinary gang robbing banks. They also happen to be trained assassins. You have talked to the media letting everybody know you are the lead agent on this case. And everyone knows that where you go, Charlie follows; he has consulted our team countless times on various cases before. He has just helped us find all the gang members. And he goes missing? Without any trace?" She glanced at the NSA agent. "And nobody even knows for how long?" Silence set in for a few moments. "Don. Now I have to ask what are the odds?" She saw struggle in her superior's eyes; he wanted to escape this nightmare, ignore it, but she couldn't let him go. "Don?"

He finally looked his profiler in her eyes and sighed. "Where do you want to start?"

"Considering the note I think it's safe to assume that Charlie did leave with the NSA agents." Megan made sure she had Don's attention and turned to Malkin. "And we know that they have not reached their destination?" The man only nodded pursing his lips tightly.

Don finally took the initiative. "Where were your agents supposed to take my brother?"

Malkin didn't look happy at all. "Classified." he grumbled.

Megan took over again before her superior could lash out at the obnoxious man. "Then tell us the ways they could have taken to get there."

"It's outside L.A. That's all you need to know."

"Show us." Megan rushed out before Don could even open his mouth.

Eppes glanced at his two silent team members. "David, bring a map. Colby, check in with LAPD, see if there was anything unusual yesterday or today."

Don still didn't want to believe that anything wrong might have happened to his brother, but his team took this too much to the heart to be ignored.

It wasn't long before Colby was back, and they had the possible routes out of the city marked on the piece of paper.

Colby took a longer closer look at the map. Minutes of silence later he spun around, "Don, there might be something." He pointed to the red line on the map marking a possible route out of town, a point on a highway in a desert. "There was a call yesterday. A driver passed by two black SUVs parked on a roadside. They were both dented and scratched."

"Our agents drove a black SUV. But it was only one, and they didn't call for a backup." Malkin announced.

"There were no 911 calls from that area, so LAPD was going to send a patrol to drive by tomorrow, see if the cars are still there." Colby rushed out. This was definitely something.

Don's entire team were on edge and ready to spring into action at once. Their lead agent took a breath and nodded, "gear up. We roll in five. David, call for backup and have an ambulance standing by."

Everybody moved instantly. Finally they might be able to find their lost professor.

**Charlie**

To whom it may concern,

Pain. Lots of it. It seems to be a constant in my life. Actually I don't even remember what life was like without pain. My right thigh seems to be on fire, but it also feels as if freezing. I don't even want to look at my hands. Knowing that they are a mess covered with blood, sand and now dirt is enough. It's ironic how most of my life I needed proof to believe something, and now knowing is enough. Maybe I would feel more pain if I wasn't so tired which I know that logically shouldn't be because evening is still long to come.

I went into the mine. It was pitch black. I tried looking for lights but there was nothing to be found. I decided to crawl further rather than walk. Staying upright was becoming a challenge anyway. Deeper into the mine I came across a few crisscrossing corridors. I had no idea where they were leading, and I definitely had no wish of getting lost. So I decided to always turn right.

It didn't take long for me to start hearing voices of the men following me. There was little more I could do but speed up my crawling. Though I wondered how much that would help me because the bloody trail I was leaving after me was so apparent.

Many cobwebs, broken wood, stones and various other kinds of debris later I stumbled into a small niche in the wall. It was barely big enough for me to fit in. Then I waited. And waited some more. I could only hear two voices. Who knows how long I spent there, but finally the voices seemed to recede deeper into the mine. Further away from me.

I took a breath. This was it. My chance to get away. At least for a little while. For as long as my body held or till they finally found me. Whichever came first. Can't say it really matters to me.

Now I'm leaving the mine. I can hear two men's voices far behind me. They still don't know where I am, but I have little hope to remain not found for long.

Charlie.


	6. Chapter 6

Story: Unasked questions

Author: Adri1577

Main characters: Charlie and Don

Warnings: death fic.

Summary: Charlie has an annoying habit of ignoring phone calls and disappearing. He also works for more than one agency. Before anyone knows two cases collide in a brutal way.

**Chapter 6 (final chapter)**

**Just to be noted if somebody hasn't seen it coming, this is a death-fic. And it pretty much ends in this chapter, only an epilogue left.**

**Don**

They could see skid marks and broken roadside railing long before they came to stop by the parked vehicles. The two cars had obviously been in an accident. Or was it really an accident because the damage done to the cars was not consistent to each other. Don's team and LAPD patrols got out of their cars. They came to have a better look at the parked SUVs.

Megan walked passed them and went straight to the broken railings at the roadside. She looked down, and what she saw made her gasp. "Don!"

Everybody came to have a look, and most of them had to turn away to take a breath. Considering the total wreckage of the car lying at the bottom of the slope there wasn't mush possibility for potential survivors. And a thought that one of the passengers could have been Charlie made the entire team cringe.

Colby was the first one to rush down the steep slope to the car. Shattered glass. Blood. But no pools of it. And certainly no bodies. This gave a momentary hope. One that was quickly quashed by a realization that there were two black SUVs on the road. And they had no current passengers either. For all they knew, those two cars could have easily ran this one off the road. Colby walked on. Only feets away he saw what he knew was most likely to come. "Bullet casings!" he yelled to alert the others. The procedure said that they had to take their weapons out. However, Colby had a feeling that there was no longer a point in doing so. Not anymore, not here.

There was little reason to stay put. The ex-marine went on following the trails. It wasn't long before he came across the first body, just behind some bushes. Thankfully it wasn't Charlie. "A body here!" he yelled to get others' attention, silently seeking his leader's eyes and shaking his head to show that it wasn't the young professor's. This man was clad in a black suit. His hands were crisscrossed; there were still some glass shards in the wounds. The clothes were dirty with sand and blood. A bullet hole in the lad's left shoulder. Colby leaned in closer to have a better look at the young man. There was another bullet hole that pierced the man's chest sideways; breathing in such condition would have been impossible.

"Oh God. It's Alec Daton. Our agent." Colby looked up to see Malkin's face.

There was little the ex-marine could do to help either of the men. He took a few steps backwards to take in the entire scene. There was a plethora of bullet casings mixed with a pool of blood. On a good note, the continuing trail away from there was easier to read. On a bad note, there was more and more blood mixed in the sand, and who could tell whose blood it was. He had to walk on.

It wasn't a long stroll before Colby saw another body. "Another body here!" he yelled to alert the others. This man was all clad in black and had an automatic gun strapped to him. He would have looked perfectly healthy bar for the black hole between his eyes. Colby came closer to the body. Dark eyes, short blond hair, high forehead. Was it less than two hours ago when Colby was looking at this guy's photo in the bureau. This was one of their bank robbers, found by Charlie. Now no mask meant they were there to kill. And to think that they were coming after their mild mannered mathematician was more than a little disturbing.

Colby looked around. The trail was easy to see, but it gave little solace to the soldier. His friend was somewhere out there. And the raging silence in front of him did nothing to bring comfort to him. He needed to move if for no other reason than to have something to do.

It was just behind the closest formation of boulders where Colby came across another body. He didn't need Malkin to tell him that the lad was an agent. The black tell-tale suit was enough. There was a bloody patch on the man's shirt and a bullet hole probably below it. The blood pool around the body and the dredges leading to it reminded the ex-marine of Afghanistan. But the kill shot must have been the hole between the man's collarbones. He must have drowned in his own blood. Another reminder that astray bullets could be as dangerous as the ones fired from point blank range.

A few minutes of walking and the ex-marine had to stop again. Colby will never admit to anyone, but he released a breath of relief when he saw that the next body lying around was that of one of the bank robber's. This one had more than a single hole in him. The emotional side of marine wanted to cheer that the bastard had to suffer before finding peace in death, but on the other hand, it also meant that the guy had more time to fire at Charlie.

There was little point in staying put. Colby shouted about another body and went on. He wanted to find his friend as soon as possible, but at the same time he was afraid of what exactly he was going to find. His feet were dragging through sand, and he didn't seem able to lift them enough to go faster than crawling. Every moment and every step were bringing him closer to whatever happened to Charlie; it was becoming difficult to make himself hope for the best.

Within a minute Don caught up with him. Two colleagues, two friends and now two partners in this never-ending nightmare. Don was carrying a gun in his hands. So was Colby but the latter hardly paid any attention to the piece of metal.

Another small hill of sand and they came across two bodies. For a moment their hearts stopped. Just long enough for them to see that neither of the lying men was Charlie. Don signaled about two more bodies to the crew slowly coming behind them.

From there on the blood trail was even more prominent. A path of blood, bullet casings and disturbed sand stretched on.

Don and Colby went on dreading what they would see behind every pile of sand. After minutes of walking that seemed like running a marathon they saw a man propped up against a boulder. His head and hands were down. A pool of blood was gathered on the ground around him.

Two bullet casings and an empty 9mm were the only things lying around the man. Looking back Colby had to force a breath into his lungs; this man had only two bullets and managed to take out two enemies. But the story didn't end here. They were still missing Charlie, and the trail onwards was marked with even more blood.

The disturbed sand was leading into the mine, but an even more prominent trail was leading out of it.

Colby was the one to break the eerie silence, "Don, we can always come back to the mine. But whatever is out there in the sand can be lost if we try to find something in this endless mine."

Don was torn between wanting to make sure that his brother wasn't laying somewhere down there all alone, and understanding that his job was to find and detain the culprits. He nodded mutely, and they went on.

Slowly they climbed a steep hill of sand and stopped dead in their tracks because of the total devastation that was down the slope. There were bits and pieces of an old and rusty car, and three charred bodies laying on their backs on the ground.

Colby and Don ran down to the scene, but there wasn't any even theoretical hope that the injured people were alive. People of whom one was Charlie. A beloved younger brother and a dear friend.

The only way they could recognize the professor was bits of his clothes and a pendant around his neck. A jewelry that Don could never understand: a circle with a tiny cobweb in it. There was no doubt about who was lying partly covered with sand.

Don fell on his knees scrunching his eyes, tears of despair welling up and burning behind his eyelids.

Colby stood still with his back straight and head down. He had seen friends lying dead after explosions, especially grenades blowing up as it seemed to have happened here. But it hadn't happened for years, not since he joined the bureau. Exactly this feeling of hopelessness was one of the reasons why he left the Marine Corps. He took a deep breath and looked around. No matter how devastating the explosion was, it hadn't happened hours ago. More like an entire day might have passed after all this.

"Don, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known or done anything to prevent this." Hot tears were streaming down his friend's face. They both knew that nothing could be said to fix this; nothing could be done to make things right.

This was going to maul them all.

But the race against time had ended before its participants even knew of its beginning.

**Charlie**

To whom it may concern,

I can't remember when I lost my gun. I only know that I left the mine without it. Not that it matters now. Nothing really does.

When I left the mine I turned to another side than where Jerry was. I didn't want to see him. Or rather see what those creatures had done to him.

I tried to walk for as long as I could. But truth be told I was staggering more than anything else. It seemed hours later, though it felt like days and could have been no more than mere minutes, I climbed one of the many sand hills around here. I wouldn't be able to tell anyone whether it was more difficult to climb it without tripping or walk down it without falling. But finally I was at the bottom, and my eyes met a welcoming sight. It wasn't a person. No. I didn't want to drag anyone else down with me today. Rather I saw an old rusted car, a jeep. It was half buried in sand but just big enough for me to hide behind it. I had no naive hope that I could stay unnoticed here for long. But at least those guys would have to come close to me and most importantly facing me in order to shoot me.

I knew I had little time left, so I glanced into the belt with many pouches that Jerry had given to me. There wasn't much there that I could use. But I really needed only one thing. Strangely it fit quite nicely in my hand, as if it had been made specifically for me to use it.

I didn't have to wait long. There were two of them. They came just like I wanted them to. Facing me. The taunts and insults didn't even seem to reach my ears. I simply couldn't make myself care about them. Closer! I needed them to come closer to me! And they did. The foolish grins and sneers faded from their faces as soon as they came close to me. Close enough to truly look into my eyes. They must have seen something in them. Or maybe they just noticed what I was holding in my hand. I pulled out the ring and threw the small ball a few feets into the air.

I can feel heat on my skin, but it does little to touch my soul. Or body. Today I lost three friends even if I didn't really know them. It matters not. We all fought on the same side in this meaningless war. I still am.

Sun rays seem to heat up the air near me. But my skin is cold and wet as a stone in dawn. My soul is weeping for the lives lost. Though I am also more calm than I can remember ever being before.

I'm not afraid. Not really. The first law of thermodynamics comes into my mind: energy can be transformed but cannot be created or destroyed. Making an assumption that human soul is a form of energy, it will never be destroyed or fade away. I will always be around. So there's nothing to be afraid of, right?

Goodbye Don, Dad, Amita, Larry. I love you all, guys.

Hello, Mum. I missed you.

Charlie


	7. Chapter 7

Story: Unasked questions

Author: Adri1577

Main characters: Charlie and Don

Warnings: death fic.

Summary: Charlie has an annoying habit of ignoring phone calls and disappearing. He also works for more than one agency. Before anyone knows two cases collide in a brutal way.

**Epilogue**

It had been raining all night. Even now it was drizzling. It almost seemed like the Earth was mourning the Mathematics professor who loved it so much.

Everybody deep down was glad that Jewish traditions required a closed casket ceremony, not that other options would have been logical.

The night of the day when Charlie was taken to the funeral home for people to say their goodbyes Don's team stayed with their leader for as long as they could leaving only well past twilight. On their way out they saw five men quietly entering the room where Charlie was. When the team returned the following morning, the men were still there, scattered around the room. Their clothes reminded Colby of days past, the clothes he had worn on several occasions: a long-sleeved midnight blue coat with a standing collar and midnight blue belt with a gold M-buckle, plain white shirt, sky blue trousers; one of them was wearing midnight blue trousers as general officers only do; they also had white gloves, and black dress shoes, numerous ribbons were consolidated on the left sides of their chests. Little was left for imagination: these men were marines and had come to stand guard by Charlie's side one last time.

Many people came and went the entire day. Unconsciously Colby sorted them all into two groups. The first group consisted of young people, obviously still students or just-graduated, Charlie's colleagues, other professors and people who must have met Charlie only on a few occasions. They were whispering among themselves, dabbing at their eyes now and then, and generally wearing their emotions on their sleeves. The second group of people was different. Every time one of them entered the funeral home, the person would take notice of all the windows and doors, positions of other people in the room. Habits that Colby still sometimes had trouble suppressing, especially being as emotionally drained as he was now. The group consisted mostly of men and only a few females. They stood still, their backs straight, shoulders drawn back and chins held up. Faces were blank, carefully blank. Trained stoic. Only several of them would close their eyes every now and then for more than a few moments, as if their emotions were too much to hold back. Strangely neither group could have been easily named to be the bigger one.

It had been a surprise for everybody that the young Mathematics professor had a living will, written when he was in his early twenties no less. The mild mannered man had asked for no eulogies during his burial, or if any for them to be short stating nothing specific about him. For some strange reason the lad had said that he was only as much as people around him. The meaning was lost even on Alan; the distraught man could only remember his son's extensive work, studies and lots of traveling all around the world at that period of Charlie's life.

The burial ceremony was mostly quiet. Colby was standing with Megan and David not far from where Don was sitting by his father. The two men were barely holding themselves in one piece.

Glancing around, the team noticed their Assistant Director standing not far away with three more FBI agents, someone they recognized to be working in Washington D.C. rather than L.A. Further inspection of the crowd around them provided even more surprises.

"Is that Robert Tompkins, Director of the NSA?" David muttered to his teammates.

Megan looked around noting the man flanked by two other men in black suits. "Seems so. I never thought he knew Charlie personally."

David looked on. "Is it just me, or is the guy behind Penfield an actual general? Can't say for sure but I think those are four stars on his shoulders."

Colby nodded trying to remain surreptitious in his own inspections. "And those two accompanying him are colonels. When did Charlie have so much to do with the military?"

"We knew he consulted with the NSA..." David reminded his partner not really being satisfied with his own answer and wishing somebody else would explain so many military personnel and men-in-black.

"But for all of them to come here personally..? And did you notice that most of the men in suits are wearing badges from one agency or another with black stripes across." Megan couldn't hold in the surprise about the shear number of federal, and obviously not only, agents in their dear friend's funerals.

It wasn't long before the service was over, most of the people going their ways and only a select few returning to Charlie's house for dinner.

The team was waiting for the crowd to dissipate when they overheard a conversation between two marines.

"It's not fair. We protected him in Iraq and even in Iran." A young twentish-looking marine was fuming. "We kept him safe in Afghanistan. And then they managed to lose him in L.A. of all places!"

The older man, maybe in his late forties, silently watched the kid in front of him. "You're a good marine. Your father and Charlie are proud of you. Don't throw that away." He quietly observed the young man. "Take a walk. Neither you nor I are supposed to be on this continent, let alone here. Don't forget that."

The lad took a breath, saluted his superior, turned on his heels and stalked off obviously still mad at the world around him and the unfairness of life.

The older marine took a breath and glanced in the direction of his young friend's fresh grave. He had never, not even in his nightmares, imagined to outlive the mild mannered constantly chattering civilian.

"Excuse me. You knew Charlie?" The man turned to see a female FBI agent standing in front of him. Most of the people in black suits had their agencies' badges with black strips across them visible on their clothes.

"He was like a younger brother for me for over a decade." The man got a faraway look in his eyes for a few moments. "I'm sorry, Charlie was a family in everything but blood to most of us."

The team was stunned. Colby was the first one to recover. "It's just that he never mentioned any of you. Or even knowing anyone from anywhere in the military. Or most of the other agencies, except for a few. Charlie definitely had a good heart, but he couldn't keep a secret no matter what."

The man smiled, "oh, but if only you knew the hundredth of what he omitted." The smile grew into a smirk. "I suppose unlike you, I am on first name basis with every single person who came here today. Or at least the higher ups." The team's jaws were ready to drop. The man shrugged. "Time goes and times change. And Charlie was with us every single step of the journey." David clearly wanted to ask something, but the man was not to be interrupted. Deep sadness, regret and pain briefly flashed in his eyes. "You spent half a decade working with Charlie. But after today, seeing these men and women here, not somebody else but them personally. I give you a question, answer it for yourselves: how much, honestly, do you know about Charlie, the person he was and the life he lived?"

The man took a step backwards, nodded with a grim smile on his face, saluted his young friend's grave, turned around and disappeared in the drizzle.

THE END


End file.
